


Sins Of The Father

by J_D_McCormick



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blasphemy, Demon possession, Father Todd, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, and one sided, dubcon, implied - Freeform, jason is under demonic influence, look this is just a whole lot of Sin im sorry, the dick/bruce is implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15836859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/pseuds/J_D_McCormick
Summary: “Come now Father, I can see the sin in your eyes.” The demon says, twisting Richard’s pretty lips –no, stop that– into a wide grin. “Don’t let the sweet face deceive you, this boy is more sinful than he’d have you think. I’ve been inside his head, and oh, Father… his thoughts are filthy. Kneeling down in the evenings to say his prayers and thinking of kneeling for another reason, putting his mouth to some other use…”The demon licks over Richard’s lips and opens his mouth, tongue wet and obscene against his lower lip, eyes pleading for a moment before it laughs loudly. Jason keeps his grip tight on his Bible.“I’m sure he’d love to show you, Father.” The demon purrs. “And I know you want to see.”





	Sins Of The Father

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooooooooo boy this is.... a whole thing.
> 
> Inspired by some art for an Exorcist AU on Tumblr, the idea of a seductive demon-possessed Dick was far too much for me to resist. Also, Father Todd??? Sign me the fuck up. This started and then just spiralled into more and more sin as I ended up throwing in every little dirty fantasy kink I could apply to these guys lol.
> 
> So, to rehash the warnings: demon possession and Hardcore Blasphemy are involved, Dick is intended to be around 15 in age, Dick has a bit of a Thing for Bruce, Jason's consent is really fudged and it could be inferred that Dick's is too. If any of that sounds not-fun to you, best to turn back now.

Jason is not sure why he, of all people, was called in for this job.

He considers himself what people would call an ‘unlikely priest’ – someone who has committed so much sin it seems absurd that they would become one of God’s men. Jason rather thinks that comes from a misunderstanding of the Lord and those who are drawn to Him. It is the starving man who most needs bread, and it is the sinner who most needs salvation. Jason has many, many vices, but he has turned to the Lord to help save him from them.

With that all in mind, though, he’s still not sure why he has been the one called to exorcise Richard Grayson, teenage ward of Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne. He is certain there are other, far more knowledgeable, far more experienced people to carry this out. He can think of some of the senior priests in his church, for a start. He is young, still relatively new to the Church. Truth be told, he’s a little nervous.

He really doesn’t want to screw this up.

He’s greeted at the front door of Wayne’s manor by an elderly British man who introduces himself as the family butler.

“Master Dick’s behaviour has been becoming more and more concerning over the past months.” Alfred tells him. “It came in fits and starts at first, but the past two weeks I rather think we haven’t truly seen the young master at all.”

“And what behaviour is it that he’s displaying?” Jason asks politely. “That makes you believe it is possession you are dealing with?”

“At first it was all very minor. Suddenly lashing out, taking on a tone most unlike himself – he’s generally such a sweet lad, so even that seemed drastic – and occasionally talking in languages neither me nor Master Bruce understood, and that he’s never spoken before.” Alfred says, leading Jason up the large staircase and down a hallway. “Then he progressed to… well, he would seem to taunt Master Bruce by talking about the death of his parents. Details he shouldn’t have known. Details he _can’t_ have known. And then, the violence…”

There is screaming from a room as they approach. Jason can see Alfred’s expression become deeply saddened even as he tries to school it. The butler knocks, then carefully opens the door.

“The priest is here to see the young master, sir…” He says delicately.

“Let him in.” A man grunts from within the room, and Alfred gestures Jason to step in.

The room is a mess. It seems like all the artefacts from the desk have been swept onto the floor; a laptop lies shattered against a wall with a dent in the plaster, pens and papers strewn everywhere, a chair upended. In the plaster above the bed a symbol has been half-scratched, and blood smeared across it. A pair of bloodied scissors have fallen to the side of the bed, and on it, Bruce Wayne has caught Richard’s wrists and pinned them down firmly. Richard is the source of the screaming as he yells, kicks and writhes beneath Bruce. His hands clench and unclench fiercely, and one is cut across the palm and bleeding.

“Let me go! Let me go let me go you fucking bastard!” The voice is that of a young teenager, but the ferocity doesn’t match it. “I’ll fucking cut you! Make you bleed! You just see if I won’t, make you bleed like your mother did.” Abruptly the boy’s voice changes, deepening, beginning to shout and curse in a mixture of languages – Jason recognises snippets of Latin and Greek amongst them. Through all of this Bruce Wayne presses his son’s hands down onto the bed to keep him from hitting or pulling away, stone faced. It’s the face of a broken, hurt man.

“This is not the young Dick I know.” Alfred says softly, almost lost under the screaming. “But it has become common to see him this way.”

Finally Richard slumps down, panting quietly. He groans, rolling his head on the pillow.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” He mumbles, his voice soft and quiet. He sounds young – truly young now, voice and tone. Bruce softens at that, releasing one of Richard’s hands to brush his cheek gently. “I’m sorry, really. I want to be good. I want to be good for you.”

“I know, Dickie. We’ve got someone to help you. It’ll be alright.” Bruce soothes the boy gently.

“I want to be good for you. Let me? Let me be good for you, Dad, your good boy, please, you can do whatever you want…” Richard’s free hand presses to his father’s chest, then trails lower, skimming over his stomach and reaching to grope at his crotch. Bruce jumps away like he’s been burnt, backing well away from the bed, holding himself rigidly. The boy whimpers, moans, squirms about on the bed as if in need. Bruce looks away, jaw tight, and turns to Jason.

“Can you help him?” He asks flatly.

“I will certainly try.” Jason nods. “You have consulted with psychologists as well?”

“Yes. None of them can diagnose him with anything.” Bruce says. “They said an exorcism might work. It’s our last hope.”

Jason nods. “Then, I will do everything within my power. I am certain the Lord will help me to relieve your son of this.”

“Thank you.” Bruce murmurs, glancing back over to Richard, who is lying still on the bed now, watching Jason with a sharp gaze. “Alfred and I will leave you to it. If you need anything, at all, come and find us and we will provide it.”

Jason nods. Bruce pauses a moment, uncertain as he looks over at Richard, before he turns and leaves the room, Alfred following behind him and shutting the door with a solid click. Jason lets out a slow, long breath, then sets to work.

He pulls his rosary into his hands, thumb working over the beads as he murmurs prayers softly. He takes out his aspergillum and starts sprinkling holy water about the room – across the doorway and windowsills, and around the bed, to keep the demon possessing the boy contained until the exorcism is completed. Richard – or, the demon inside his body – groans and presses his hands over his ears.

“Stop that.” It demands. “You won’t get me to leave with that muttering, you’ll just piss me off.”

Jason doesn’t acknowledge the words, simply continues on. The demon growls, presses Richard’s hands tighter against his ears.

“Shut up, shut up! Shut the fuck up you bastard, I’ll hurt you!”

“No, you won’t.” Jason says calmly. He presses his rosary to his lips briefly, then tucks it away in a pocket in his cassock. The demon snarls.

“I will! I will I swear. I’ll make you sick, leave you bleeding from the inside out, just like before.” It spits. Jason takes a breath and steels himself. He will not let himself be goaded.

“In the name of the Blessed Father, I demand you leave this boy.” He says firmly.

“In the name of the Prince Of Hell, go fuck yourself.” The demon sneers. The expression is odd on the face of a boy. Jason only sighs and pulls out his Bible. The demon growls.

“Aren’t there better things for you to be doing? Why don’t you go shoot up, have a little fun?” It taunts, shifting restlessly on the bed. Jason doesn’t respond, but he sees the moment its expression shifts from cruel to smug. “Or, we could have a little fun here?”

“You are unwelcome in this body. The power of the Lord compels you to leave.” Jason presses on.

The demon twists Richard’s body into an alluring pose – leant on one hand, hip cocked a little, legs tucked up in a way meant to draw attention to the place between them. Jason doesn’t register that his eyes are drifting until he notes the slight bump in the fabric where Richard’s cock lies against it, small and soft. He jerks his eyes back up, and shakes himself.

“You’re not unwelcome in this body.” The demon says. “In fact, you’re very welcome to stick your cock in it-”

“No.” Jason says, a little sharper than he intended. He clears his throat a little. “I call upon-”

“Come now Father, I can see the sin in your eyes.” The demon says, twisting Richard’s pretty lips – _no, stop that_ – into a wide grin. “Don’t let the sweet face deceive you, this boy is more sinful than he’d have you think. I’ve been inside his head, and oh, Father… his thoughts are filthy. Kneeling down in the evenings to say his prayers and thinking of kneeling for another reason, putting his mouth to some other use…”

The demon licks over Richard’s lips and opens his mouth, tongue wet and obscene against his lower lip, eyes pleading for a moment before it laughs loudly. Jason keeps his grip tight on his Bible.

“I’m sure he’d love to show you, Father.” The demon purrs. “And I know you want to see.”

“Stop this.” Jason snaps. He holds up his Bible, starts to leaf through it for the relevant passages.

“Why try to deny it? You’re a hot blooded man, the same as any other, and he is a beautiful boy… Look at him, don’t you want him?”

Jason only continues searching the passages, trying to push the temptation from his mind. It is like a physical force, wrapping around his head and pressing, picking at every thread of him. He keeps his eyes resolutely on the holy book up until a wad of cloth is thrown into his face.

He pulls it off, only to realise it is the bottoms of the pyjamas Richard had been wearing – in a brief, reactive moment of surprise, he looks up. Richard is sprawled across the bed, legs open and back arched, one of his hands slowly stroking his cock, the other clutching to the sheets beside his head. He gives a soft moan, lifting his hips for a moment in a slow roll.

“Don’t you want me? Aren’t I pretty?” Richard asks, voice soft and breathy. “I could be so perfect for you Father. I’ve been desperate for someone to fuck me… Stick their cock in my tight little ass… I’ve dreamt about it you know?” He bites a moment at a full lower lip. “I dreamt about my Daddy fucking me. I know it’s naughty but he’s so big and strong, he could give me exactly what I wanted. But I’m sure you could as well, couldn’t you, Father?”

“No.” Jason says, voice unsteady. He looks down again at his Bible, tries not to let his grip wrinkle the delicate pages.

“You shouldn’t lie, Father.” Richard purrs. “I lied to myself for a while. I didn’t want to admit I was a sinner. But you have to accept it, give in to it. I have. I know what I want. I want a nice, fat cock, to lick at, suck on… mm, to fuck me. I’ve touched myself thinking about it. Sometimes I fuck myself with my fingers… I try to imagine it’s Daddy, but my fingers aren’t big enough. I caught him coming out of the shower once, and he’s _big_. He wasn’t even hard then. I bet he’s huge when he is. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks, just imagining how it would feel in my hands… Against my lips, inside my mouth.” Richard moans, and it’s such a _pretty_ sound. “Inside me. He’d be able to open me up so good, and then he could press me down and fuck me, however he liked. My Dad, he’s so strong. He can lift me up with just one hand. It would be so easy for him to pin me down, put me just how he wants me even when I squirmed and wriggled in his grip… I want to feel his big strong hands holding me down while he fucks me into the mattress, hard and fast and God, so _good_ …”

Jason can feel a shiver go through him, listening to the boy talk about his fantasies, listening to his little moans and breaths. He tries to glance up without lifting his head, without letting on that he’s watching.

Richard’s hand is no longer stroking his cock – it’s travelled lower, two fingers now pressed inside him. His eyes are closed, mouth parted in bliss as he rocks against them. Jason watches as he brings up his free hand, licks over two fingers, then sucks them in with another sweet moan. For a few moments he lavishes attention on the digits, moving his head back and forth to the same rhythm his hips rock against his other hand. A traitorous groan forms in his chest, barely leaving his lips, but it’s enough for the demon to glace over, smile around Richard’s fingers, pull them back with a little pop of noise.

“Do you like that Father? You could use my mouth. I’d love to get a taste of your cock. Daddy won’t let me taste his but you’d let me have yours, wouldn’t you?” Richard’s voice is soft, pleading, wanting. The sinful voice in the back of Jason’s head whispers _yes, yes I would_.

Richard pulls his fingers from himself with a little moan, shifting around onto all fours. He crawls across the bed, predatory, letting his body bend and stretch with the movement. Briefly Jason remembers that there’s a demon in this boy’s body, that it is likely puppeteering him, that he has no idea if all this talk is true – but the thought is fleeting. It doesn’t matter. Whatever is in this body at the moment _wants_ him. He has a hard time thinking past that.

Richard reaches out, fists a hand into the front of Jason’s cassock and tugs him a little closer to the bed. He looks up at the priest through his lashes as he brushes a hand over Jason’s abdomen, trails his touch over the fastening of the vestment, starts slowly working open the lower buttons. Jason has to try not to moan at that look. Richard shoves the material of the cassock away, makes quick work of his trousers and pulls them down, leaving Jason in nothing below the waist but briefs that feel far too tight with the way his cock has swollen and hardened inside them.

“Mm, you are turned on by this, Father. I haven’t even touched you and look how hard your cock is…” Richard presses his hand to the bulge in Jason’s briefs, moving it in one deliberate stroke over the length of him. The groan that forces itself from Jason’s throat is echoed by the boy, as he tugs Jason closer to stroke over him again, press his face against him and mouth at the material. “I can’t wait to suck you. Do you like the sound of that, Father? Do you want my mouth?”

“Yes.” Jason breathes, his hips bucking into the stimulation of Richard’s hands and lips. The boy smiles against him, pulling back and slowly pulling away the last thing between him and Jason’s cock. He wraps his hand around it, stroking over it in slow, careful movements that have Jason moaning again.

“This is just like I wanted.” Richard murmurs, a little desperate undertone to his voice. “You’re so much bigger than I am.” He licks up the underside of Jason’s cock, moaning as he does. “You taste so good Father. Such a thick cock, you’ll fill my mouth up really good. Will you fuck me as well? My hole is aching already just thinking about your cock inside of me… I want it so badly Father.”

Richard keeps mouthing and licking over the length of Jason’s cock, like he’s so desperate he can’t bear to pull his mouth away, not even just for the brief time it takes to line himself up properly. He finally reaches the head and envelops it in his mouth, pressing his tongue up against it as he suckles gently. Jason can’t stop himself from letting his hand fly out, grip at Richard’s hair in an attempt to keep his balance and his composure. The boy moans, long and deep in his chest, and presses himself forwards to take as much of Jason as he can. His tongue dances along sensitive skin, lips pressing and stroking with the small bobbing movements of Richard’s head. He sucks and swallows and whines, and Jason pants hard above him as each movement sends pleasure in waves through him.

Jason doesn’t realise he has his eyes closed until he opens them when Richard pulls back from him with a gasp. The boy is pushing back onto his fingers, once again opening himself, saliva dripping down his chin from his enthusiastic efforts in sucking Jason’s cock. He gives a small cry as he twists his fingers in a particular way, hot breath ghosting over Jason.

“Please… Please, Father, I want…” Richard gasps brokenly, briefly attaching his lips to Jason’s cock before speaking again. “Please fuck me, Father…”

Whatever restraint Jason may have had before is gone now – almost no sooner than the words have left Richard’s mouth he’s pushing the boy down onto the bed, hands pressing at his shoulders to tip him onto his back. Richard cries out, his fingers forced from him, but spreads his legs readily as Jason moves between them.

“Yes- Yes- Please, Father, fuck me, let me feel your cock inside me, filling me up-” The boy’s fingers dig into the material covering Jason’s back, hard enough to have scratched his skin if it had been bare. He’s briefly mournful that is isn’t – he wants those small, hot hands tracing his skin, feeling and grasping at every part of him – but that’s lost as he moves his hips forward clumsily, clouded with lust, to find Richard’s entrance. His first attempt slips over the boy’s hole, and he whines, needy and disappointed, before Jason thrusts again and this time manages to sink into his tight heat.

“God…” Jason groans, letting his head hang forwards for a moment as he rocks into Richard.

“Shh. There’s no God here.” Richard murmurs, sweet against his ear. “Just you and I Father. Don’t think of Him – think of me.”

“And who are you?” Jason pants.

“I am Many.” The demon hums, wrapping Richard’s arms around Jason’s neck, drawing him in closer. “Asmodeus and Gressil, Carnivale and Rosier.” His hips move against Jason’s, trying to pull him deeper, hand sliding up through Jason’s hair. “Richard is here too. We’re fulfilling his every desire. He loves it, Father – don’t stop.”

A tug on Jason’s hair and he can’t help but buck forwards, groaning and pulling back to thrust again, again, jostling Richard against the mattress and pressing deep into him with each movement. The boy tosses his head and moans, his chest heaving as he gasps breath desperately. He tries again to scratch up Jason’s back, the other hand tightening in his hair. After one small shift and another thrust, his back arches up beautifully.

“Ahh! Yes! There, Father, there, please-” Richard chokes on another sound of pleasure. Jason can only watch him, eyes taking in his body hungrily, and try to hit that spot again, wanting more of those delicious sounds, more of that beautiful bow-arched back. He can tell when he gets the angle just right by the hard pull of air Richard takes, and the high moan he releases.

He speeds his pace, eager to find his own end and give the boy under him his, wanting to see the way his pretty body will twist and writhe with orgasm. His mind is occupied with nothing more than that, seeking their final ecstasies, and he doesn’t pay enough attention to listen as Richard babbles and pleads, vocal tone rising and falling.

“Father, oh fuck, yes, there…”

A breathless gasp and clawed hands down Jason’s back.

“Please, please, please… Father… Dad…”

A thin whine and a tremble, eyes squeezed shut.

“Please, Dad, please… I want it, I want it-”

Richard moans, back arching up again, legs squeezing tight around Jason’s hips and urging him on. Jason fucks into him harder at the unspoken demand.

“Yes! Yes yes yes, Daddy, just like that, just like that, so _good_ , Daddy-!”

Richard cries out as he comes, thick ropes of semen splashing up over his stomach, a few drops catching on the front of Jason’s cassock, stark white against the black of it. The boy’s body twitches and writhes, fluttering around Jason’s cock and squeezing down on him. Jason has a moment to take him in – small and delicate, body stretched out prettily and rocking desperately against him, spattered in his own come with pretty pink lips open in ecstasy – before he’s coming himself, hard, pressed deeply into Richard.

“That’s it… That’s it, Father, give it all to me…” Richard breathes. “Mm, all that hot cum, deep inside my ass… Fuck.”

Jason shudders through his orgasm, squeezing at Richard’s shoulders. In the aftershocks, he stares down at him, and Richard stares back, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Father.” He murmurs, and then his eyes flutter and he slumps back against the pillows of his bed, each muscle slowly going lax.

Jason stays poised above him, panting harshly in the new quiet of the room. The encounter hits him hard in a single moment, like a spell has been lifted; the young boy below him, the childhood bedroom around him, his slowly softening cock in the body of one possessed. His cassock is stained with come, like some horrible insult to his faith. He scrambles back, stiffening for a moment when Richard winces and groans as he tugs his cock from him.

He hurries to tuck himself back into his trousers, refasten the bottom of his cassock, tug out tissues to clean off the material as best he can. He does the same to Richard, wiping cum from his stomach and tugging his pyjama bottoms back on. He tucks the covers up over him as well, as if somehow that will hide the violation better.

Jason takes a few minutes to kneel and pray, making plans to confess. He can only hope to God this doesn’t get him kicked out of the church – unlikely, he thinks. He wonders what he would do without his practice to keep him steady and stable.

He stands and finishes the exorcism rites – he remembers the names given to him, in the midst of a haze of pleasure, and recites them. Richard jolts up from the bed and screams, inhuman screeches tearing from his throat as he thrashes and writhes. For a moment he begins to float, the bedcovers threatening to fall off him, before with a last horrifying cry he slumps back, limp in the bed again. Jason sprinkles holy water onto him – his skin does not blister, and the boy does not move.

If nothing else, at least he has exorcised the boy of his demons.

He prays the rosary over Richard, and then presses the beads into his hands. He strokes his hair flat, and looks at him for just a moment. He has a sweet face, relaxed in sleep, soft and round. Like this, no-one would guess at what had happened to him. Some dark part of Jason, the part that gave in, hopes that no-one ever does.

When he descends the large staircase at the front of the manor, he finds Bruce and Alfred, talking quietly – Bruce has his arms crossed tight across his chest, worry radiating from every inch of him. Alfred has a hand placed at his elbow, reassuring. Jason hopes guilt does not cross his face as they look up to him.

“Did it work? How is he? There was a lot of noise, I heard him shouting, is he okay?” Bruce asks quickly, stepping forward towards Jason. He holds up a hand to placate him.

“The exorcism was a success.” Jason tells them, and sees tension drop from the butler where he stands behind Bruce. “But exorcisms always take a toll on their patients. The demons fight hard, and do their best to stay in their host’s body. He screamed and thrashed a lot, but he is not hurt. He just needs rest.”

“Can I go to him?” Bruce asks, eyes already leaving Jason and glancing up at the landing.

“He needs rest.” Jason presses again. “Give him time – let him sleep. It will be easier for you both.” He gives a mild smile, and presses Bruce’s hand – he reaches out to do the same to Alfred. “I will take my leave now. God be with you.”

As he turns to leave, Bruce reaches out to catch his arm. Jason wonders if he notes the way he goes rigid – wonders if Bruce makes anything of it.

“Thank you.” The man murmurs, looking down at him sincerely. “For helping my son.”

Jason smiles and ignores the twist of guilt in his stomach. “It is my duty, Mr Wayne. Thank you, for trusting in the power of the Lord to help him.”

With a last smile and nod to the both of them, Jason leaves out the heavy doors and descends the stairs. He lets out a low, slow breath, and gathers himself, before heading off back to the church.

So much for not screwing it up.

**Author's Note:**

> Demon names are included for fun more than any importance, but for the curious, they come from the Michaelis Classification:  
> Asmodeus – seraphim, of wantoness.  
> Gressil – throne, of impurity.  
> Carnivale – power, of obscenity.  
> Rosier – dominion, of sexual impurity
> 
> The intent of this is very much for the demon/s to be encouraging Dick to be playing out and admitting to his own fantasies. Technically everything here is something Dick does want - the demon/s are simply 'helping' him admit to and act on them.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated! I'm not very sure on this one, to be honest, so I'd love to hear if people actually did like it.


End file.
